What Do You See?
by Three Libras
Summary: (DG) She sees nothingness when she looks at him. But it's not until she learns to feel through him. It all started when she gazed at his set of deep, gray eyes.
1. I Walked Right Through You

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What Do You See? 

Chapter 1 : I Walked Right Through You :

I paced.

It's 5 to midnight and I'm not supposed to be out. Hermione tried and warned me, but I just never listen. Prefect girl won't stop me - she only warned me. Who is she anyway? Well, besides being my insane brother's girl and my house's Prefect?

Jeez, I'm sweating like a pig. The walk to the tower was rather long - but it's never been this long. Exhausting, but the reward was even greater. The Astronomy Tower was my tower. _Mine._

After the happening between me and To-Tom in my first year, god, his name still makes me screech, I've started going here. That is, when my body and mind permitted it. That is, also, if the professor's didn't smite us with a 13-page essay that usually left our brains dead. I'd go up to my tower with only my company to keep (though I've invited Hermione a couple of times, but she refused and said she'd have to report me if I disregarded her caution). There, I think, decide, laugh and cry by myself, and tonight, I feel like doing everything.

The usual cold breeze welcomed me. And somehow, it made me cry. I tried to think of a reason why, but thinking only hurt more. I decided I should laugh to roof my emotions, but a cluster of cries only impaired my shining roof. I did look crazy. I would laugh and cry alternately. I find this normal, really. Normal to me, normal for me, Ginny. The last and hardest part to be done is _deciding_. I've been making painful decisions without even knowing it. I would just wake up one day and hear everyone screaming at me, mocking me of how I screwed up.

Well, it's not really mocking. It's a sort of a fake anger, you know. I had been caught sneaking out of the tower thrice this month, and caused a deduction of 25 points from Gryffindor. 25 all in all, but wait until you hear what I'd done last month. But no, it's not a thing to be proud about. I'm not the great Malfoy who'd give anything for a 25-point deduction from his own house just to piss his rotten father and Snape. And besides, I've got grade-conscious housemates who'll kill for an additional 25 points the same way they'll kill a Gryffindor who'd lose them points. A Gryffindor like, me?

But now I have to reconsider. There are no taking points now, no slapping of some lifeless bastard's face, no, it's taking of hearts.

I can't really say I didn't want this, who wouldn't want a Potter-on-his-knees-asking-you-out? Really, I.. I just wasn't expecting it. I mean, I've realized I've given up on him from the moment I stepped foot on this tower. I promised to forget him, which I did, with ease. But this morning, he changed that. He came to me during Divination. Even without Ma'am Trelawney's permission, he rushed in and dropped to his knees in front of me. The class howled, but Collin wasn't sure he was seeing right. I think he fainted, I don't know. But all I remember is Harry's face - deep and dead serious - and boy, did I hate it. He held my hand as he stooped, I turned deeper than red. Trelawney wasn't having a bad hair day so she took like, 5 points only, from both of us. 10 points from Gryffindor.

So there. He did that. And all I can do was nod as a sign of belief, and I guaranteed him I'd give his proposition a worthy thought. I asked for a night to think things over and promised an answer the following day. Shit. Why is there only 24 hours a day? I need so much more.

I took no lunch, no dinner. I stayed in my bed thinking, pondering. I never thought it'd be hard without anything in my stomach. Now I can't think straight. But I can't possibly go down to the kitchens, can I?

Wait, I mentioned Malfoy. I kind of hit him back in the corridors. I was on my way to the Great Hall to sit with my friends. Just sit, but not eat. I assume the Ginny and Harry incident in Madame Trelawney's class had been spread all over London. Malfoy actually landed on his knees in front of me when I passed. Of course, he was doing it for laughs.

"Let's go out; just you, me and my scar. If you won't, you're the millionth girl who'll turn me down."

Then and there I slapped him in the face. First, for insulting Harry (his scar, I mean.) and second, for shaming me. I could say he got really angry, because from his looks, he wanted to slap me back. He should thank his sick, self-claimed girlfriend Parkinson for pulling him back among the Slytherins who were just standing by. I could've slapped his other side if it weren't for her disordered mind. Who wouldn't enjoy the opportunity of slapping a Malfoy? Parkinson suggested I get myself lost in the castle, but I said I wasn't as dumb to do that. The girl actually grabbed my hair, but then Malfoy stopped her. I strode to the Great Hall. Harry wasn't there.

Now I lay motionless, neither a moving limb nor a sounding heartbeat. I must've frozen. And I wish I had. The blue covering above me is all my eyes could cover, and I love it. But this scene could've looked sweeter if Harry was here. I need him. Not only here, not only when I'm alone. I need him to wash the word "alone". And I need it washed now.

I stood up. My mind was made up, and the only thing left to do is tell him the first, and last, word he needed from me. "Yes."

My tower overlooked the Forbidden Forest, unfortunately. It's the only weakness of my tower - it threw the sight of the turbulent forest. It made my tower seem a little gloomy. 

I leaned on the terraces overlooking the forest. I wheeled around, loathing the sight of the damned forest, but apparently my head hit on something firm. But there was nothing or no one else around, I checked. But then I was wrong. Suddenly a figure started forming right in my very eyes. It shaped from head to boot. Something was wrapped around it, and the wrapping was slowly being peeled from the inside. It was like a covering being taken off after use. And to my surprise, it really was. It was, indeed, a cloak.

An invisibility cloak.

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	2. In Too Deep

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**What Do You See?**

Chapter 2: In too deep :

  


I wasn't sure what to say so I let him have the floor.   
"Shit, Weasley."   
Nice start.

So I was very wrong for believing that Harry was the only blessed student who owned an Invisibility Cloak; Or was I wrong for thinking that Malfoy _owned_ another cloak. What if Malfoy, knowing Harry had the cloak-that's-to-die-for, took it from him? If Malfoy had, he better return it before that damned cloak starts another mayhem.

"You almost goddamn tripped me over," he said accusingly, "watch your step next time and rid me your stupidity [**A/N**: thanks Mr. Gandalf!!]." I watched him as he folded up the cloak. No, it wasn't Harry's. Thank heavens.

He moved towards me, warned me to keep our meeting to myself. He explained why no student should know about his cloak; therefore: 

"Shut your mouth, Weasley, seal it." 

I only nodded despite the initial urge to spread the news, but then I realized I wasn't fit for a gossipmonger.

"And what the hell are you doing here, this late? Shouldn't you be in your scarlet pajamas, sucking your thumb?" 

_Urgh! We don't sleep in scarlet pajamas!_ Oh! how I wanted to say that. But one way to repel a Malfoy insult is by simply.. ignoring it. Treat it like the wind, that's what Hermione would say.

And so I remained silent, and focused my eyes on the forest. I leaned my arms on the veranda's granite railings, and forgot for a moment that somebody else was there. I'd gotten used to his acerbic insults, that now I find it easy to throw his presence away.

He moved to the terrace and rested in the same way I had. He leaned on his arms and whistled. Timidly, I looked up at the almost 6-footer guy next to me. He was probably getting snug—with the way he was whistling and all that. 

"What are you looking at?" he demanded.

"You," I said straight.

"Since when did I allow you to do _that_?"

"Since you never mentioned what I wasn't allowed to do, I looked." 

"Didn't I?" He stirred closer to me. I wasn't exactly sure what he was up to, but I was sure as hell it won't be to my liking.

"What's your business in my tower, Malfoy?" I looked away.

"Your tower? Excuse me, did I hear right?" his eyes were narrowing in a forbidding way. I hated him. "The last time I checked, this was the Malfoy tower, where the owner, namely '_me_' spent almost every school night ever since his 2nd year," he said substantially. 

Is that even possible? He's been going here for the past 4 years, but never in that period had I come upon a Malfoy.

"Really," I said as I backed off, "if I--told you I'd been going here for as long as you had, what would you say?"

"The obvious." He moved _even_ closer.

"And what's the obvious?"

"_That_ we hadn't met until now. And you know why?"

I nodded.

"It's you, you squeezed, pebble-sized lemon head, stepped on my precious cloak." 

"So you've been here all the time, haven't you?"

"I don't like repeating myself," Malfoy said sourly.

"And you knew.. I was here? And you still kept coming?" I widened my eyes, "stalker!"

"In your wildest dreams, Weasel. Let's just say, I have a special _gift that allows me to go unnoticed. And you, on the other hand, have nothing but.."_

"Okay, okay, I get it!" _Jeez, I've heard enough!_ "You know, you're using you cloak the wrong way," I said frankly.

He looked at me, and said, "How do you know what's right from wrong? You wouldn't be wandering this late if you knew." 

"It doesn't matter what I know." I was only trying to tell him the right thing. But then, it's Draco Malfoy I was talking to, no wonder why I got a reply like that.

"What you _don't_ know is what matters more." 

"Whatever." I motioned to the other side of the tower, and said, "Are you always following me with that cloak? I'm sorry to have stepped on it. Maybe it was an indication that you should stop with whatever you're up to."

"Dream on more." 

Then, he left. I don't know why it hurt to see (rather suppose) him wear the cloak back, and once again, go invisible. Perhaps I was intrigued by the mere fact that he was there when I cried and laughed, believing there was no one else but me. Oh well, to err is human. 

I looked down the grounds. There was the hut Hagrid calls home and his farm of out of the ordinary creatures. But to my surprise, my Potions teacher, Severus Snape, on his foot, was walking towards the Forbidden Forest carrying what seemed to be a trunk.

"Is-is that Professor Snape?" I said aloud. With the mention of his name, Malfoy halted and went back to see if it really was him.

"What is he..." wondered Malfoy. And with a sudden change in his face (he was looking confused and all), he almost shouted in my ear, "Oh.. WEASLEY!" as if he'd found a miracle.

I hushed him, and asked myself loudly, "Where's Professor Snape going?" 

Malfoy pulled me away from the terrace with a hand, while his other hand cupped my jawbones, completely turning my whole face to him. _What was happening?_

"No..no..don't look at him," he whispered hurriedly, "look at me."

And so I did. I looked at his features—nose—mouth—_eyes_. Gray. Yes, his eyes were gray. Too gray that they seemed almost empty and deep, it was too impossible to perceive what was happening inside them. It was like looking in an empty, 20 foot well from the top. Now, he held my arms with both hands. He was, as if, a dementor, ready to sip every soul that was in me. I started to feel weak, vulnerable to any blow. His hands were my only support, that's as far as I could tell. I knew that if he let me go, I'd slip. It took a while after I gathered my pieces again. But only to find out that the weakness inside only grew more. _What was happening?_

The sad thing was, he stared at me with cold eyes, possibly the same way I was staring at him. They were troubled—his eyes—they gave me the feeling he was struggling for a way out, while there I was, struggling to survive. 

  


* * *

  


( **A/N**: DRACO MALFOY'S POV. ) 

"Gray eyes?" 

I couldn't believe I actually touched her dirt. She was suddenly out of herself. She was raving mad a while ago and then suddenly turned into a, well, tissue. I felt her whole weight upon me. All of her were depending on my grip. Was she sick or something?

"Malfoy, where are you going?"

"I'm not going anywhere, stupid," I said bleakly.

Jeez, was she hallucinating?

"You better go back to where you came from or we'll both get in trouble, Weasley."

"Trouble? That's bad, trouble's bad." And she was actually laughing.

"Weasley.." I called to her in a serious tone, "I'm letting go now." I was suddenly afraid she would fall off. From her looks, she wouldn't make it back to her dorm. But there's no way I'm walking her. And hell, what do I care if she makes it there or not?

I slowly let go. She looked at me, as if searching for something that was wedged right in my face. I motioned her to go, she nodded and started walking. But before she could even reach the entrance door to the castle, she collapsed.

  


* * * 

  


( **A/N**: OMNISCIENT / THIRD PERSON VIEW STARTS HERE ) 

Snape's office was the most unlikely place to be, even during mornings. To Draco, you only get to be there if you're in deep trouble. Deep shit, that is. He sat on the chair in front of the professor's table, pretended unworried, as he watched the man finish some writing.

"Oh now, Severus, you've got a new set of frog livers! Let me just take a look at.." 

"It's Pro-fes-sor Snape to you. You wouldn't touch anything, boy," Snape cautioned.

"Whatever." Draco looked at the ceiling.

"Whatever?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes, "I wonder if it's still '_whatever_' if you knew what I'm writing to Lucius." Then came Snape's horrible smirk.

Upon hearing his father's name, Malfoy stood promptly, almost knocking the bottles of frog livers who were placed arbitrarily on the desk. "You—can't—be serious, Severus. What did I do to deserve that?"

"Oh, just in case you still don't know after 6 long years, 10 o'clock is the curfew," Snape verified and continued in an imposing manner, "let's review, shall we? You were in the Astronomy Tower past your curfew, met with a student from another house, not to mention the house is Gryffindor, and oh, do I still have to point out that _she's_ a _Weasley__?_ And to spice up to story, she was _in_ you _arms_ the moment you went back. That's the story I know, Draco. I will have to judge on that information, unless of course, you have you own version." Snape sat back comfortably in his chair, and gestured Draco to start reasoning.

"Thank you. First, Severus, do you expect me to drag an unconscious body down?"

"Of course not," answered Snape.

"The same reason why I had to carry her! Second, I saved your ass, whether you like it or just like it that way," Draco pointed. Snape's eyes widened. "By the way, what were you doing out in the forest?"

"You..saw me?"

"I didn't, she did. There was no other option but to pull her back to lose track of you. At that point, Severus, I knew you were up to something. Hoarding you from her was my only motive. But then she went out of her tiny mind, gone slightly mad and just fainted like that."

Snape looked at the younger boy distrustfully.

"Well?" insisted Draco.

"Fine then. I believe you, _but_ we have to wait for Ms. Weasley to awaken, we'll have to hear her side."

"But she'll probably lie!" complained Draco, "to get me in trouble or something."

"And why would she want you in a mess? She wouldn't, unless you _did something to provoke her."_

"I thought you believed me? Now why are you suspecting me of _something_?" protested Draco.

"No, no. I'm just.. considering all the possibilities." Snape only continued with the parchment. 

"I shouldn't have gone there again last night," said Draco in a hush, his face a disappointed picture.

"You mean _again_?"

Malfoy knew he had slipped. "Y-yes, again."

Snape looked hysterical, then asked, "How—long have you been going out late?" 

"Since 2nd year, I reckon. Since I knew what Lucius wanted me to be."

Instead of a pissed-to-death-faced-Snape Draco was expecting, Snape's face had no remarks of anger or disappointment. Severus knew where Draco was coming. He was there when Lucius revealed his true identity to his son, Draco. And ever since, Draco had been anyone but a father's son. He stopped doing as he was told, and simply did anything he knew would make his father break his mother's vases.

"I understand," he finally said, after realizing that no words could ever pacify the young man's troubled mind, and continued, "but that doesn't change my judgement. As head of the house, I should and will put you to punishment."

"Ah-right," said Draco, "uh, can I make a request?" 

Snape nodded. 

"_Don't_ write to him?"

"I'll think about that." 

Draco frowned.

"Don't scowl like that. It's for your own good. And.. I promised I would let him know his son's goings-on, didn't I? But I'll think about..."

"Look," Draco cut him. "I know my father owes you a lot and so do you to him. But why are you so.. unusually considerate? Professor, you're my house master and unfortunately, just my drought-mouth father's confidante, but why do you.. why do you surge your effort just to write to him when you don't do that to Crabbe and Goyle? They're also Slytherins. You're so unfair."

But Snape only stood up and walked to the door humbly.

"I have my reasons, Mr. Malfoy," he said flatly as he opened the door, "and you'll know them in time. We're done talking."

"But you haven't told me what you were doing outside last night," teased Draco .

"GO!"

Then Draco left, without a last look at the older man.

  


***

  


Malfoy had walked out, supposedly heading for breakfast in the Great Hall. He didn't have a sound sleep. _Who would?_, he thought_, what moron would have a proper sleep with a horrible memory backing him up?_ He passed the Infirmary doors quietly. He remembered bringing Weasley down there last night. He wondered if she was okay, after all that's happened. He peered through the rectangular glass window of the door. As he expected, Granger, her git of a boyfriend Weasley, and of course, Potter, were there, all with worried faces for Ginny. 

_Was Potter holding her hand?_

  


***

  


"Hey, Malfoy," Crabbe called to the boy beside him.

"What?" asked the irritated Malfoy.

"You getting detention?"

"No." Malfoy lied.

"Oh that's great."

"But we both will if you wont shut up."

"Sorry.." Crabbe apologized, then went back to writing.

But it was too late to stop now.

"Would you like to share your talk with the class?" posed Snape, looking at the two boys who were sharing their own conversation.

Both shook their heads.

"Then pay attention. I hope you know it's your Potions and not your, ooh, say, glamour class?"

Half the Gryffindors broke into laughs.

"What the hell's so funny?" Malfoy asked Dean Thomas, who was the closest Gryffindor to his seat, not loud enough to call Snape's attention again.

"Er, you." Dean laughed impishly.

Draco hadn't had a pleasing evening, he wouldn't let some pathetic Gryffindor ruin the day next to that. He pushed himself up and looked down on Dean.

"Well, you stopped laughing?" he asked as he towered the boy.

"I.. I was.." Dean muttered, but he was cut by Snape.

"Alright. That does it," barked Snape, "8 points from Gryffindor for disturbing my class."

Draco smirked even more as Snape turned his back.

"And 3 points from Slytherin. Did I just see a standing Draco Malfoy without my permission?"

Malfoy was forced to sit down, now with a Monday-ish smile. ( **A/N**: you know how we students hate Mondays..XD )

As Snape finished his writing, he turned to the class and started explaining, "As clearly written on the board, frog livers..." But then, the door opened.

Ron Weasley, Potter and Granger entered. The two boys went to their seats, while Granger went to Snape.

"Sorry we're late, Sir. But we have Professor Dumbledore's permission," claimed Hermione. Everyone was now looking at her. 

"But you and your companions are late. Guess I will have to take precious points."

"But sir.." Hermione tried to complain.

"No buts and sit down."

"2 points from the three of you. 2 times 3?" Snape asked blankly.

Draco answered his simple question, "6."

"And add that to 8, you'll get..?"

"14," answered Draco again, in a rather bored voice.

Snape smirked. "15? Merlin, 15 precious points!"

Knowing Hermione, she stood up to detest, "It's only 14, Sir!"

"I know that, Granger, you think you know better? It's 15 because I knew you were going to react." 

Snape continued his lesson. At Draco Malfoy's back, Gryffindor's Neville Longbottom asked Ron about his sister.

"Ey, is Gin alright?" asked Neville under his breath.

"Y-yeah, still in the Infirmary, though. Resting."

"Good," said Neville, _and Draco_ at the same time.

Ron, Neville, and Vincent but looked at Draco. 

Crabbe was alarmed, he'd never really heard Malfoy talk to himself. Well, that's what he thought.

"Said something?" Crabbe insisted.

"No," answered Malfoy strictly. He loved Potions, but for a second forgot that he did, and slept during the remaining class minutes. 

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Alright. Will somebody shoot me now?   
+Three Libras+ 


	3. Fashionably Sensitive, But Too Cool To C...

What Do You See? 

Chapter 3: Fashionably Sensitive, Too Cool To Care :

"

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Don't walk too close

Don't breathe so soft

Don't talk so sweet

Don't sing

Don't lay oh so near

"

-_ 'Don't', Jewel_

( OMNISCIENT / THIRD PERSON VIEW )

"Ginny," called Ron, pushing the plate of buffalo wings to his sister. "Will you eat?"

"Not hungry," replied Ginny. 

Ron changed from concerned to dead pissed. "That or go back to the infirmary."

Ginny kept whining about being alone in the Infirmary during meals, so Ron finally resolved to let her take dinner with them in the Great Hall.

"No, thanks." Ginny only pushed the plate back. Ron, giving up, raised his hands in mid-air in surrendering, and, shaking his head, went back to his own meal. 

"Gin," trailed Harry, who was sitting in his usual place beside her. "You haven't been eating right, look at what happened to you last night. Don't want that to happen again, do you?" he said, pushing the plate back to Ginny. 

"It's not.." Ginny paused, "I don't think that's why I fainted," and pushed the plate again away from her, this time moving it beyond Harry and Ron's reach, and said, "I was just pressured and tired and exhausted and.. I just needed some rest."

"Should I say, '_Good thing Malfoy found you!'_?" asked Dean bitterly, joining the table. Dean, as well as everyone, has heard the news. After all, this _is_ Hogwarts. "But I do think he hates the idea he helped you. I mean, he was piping hot in Potions, right Ron? I had the feeling he'd been craving to hit some Gryffindor heads since last night. Oh, and Gin, what was he doing there at the.." Dean started double-checking his collected news, making sure he heard every information right. But then Ron cut him in, perhaps to save Ginny from 'humiliation', as he calls it.

"Dean, would you like my Buffalo wings?" Ron picked a piece from his own plate with his bare fingers.

"N-no thanks." 

Ginny stood up to leave, giving Ron a thankful look. Harry caught her hand as it swerved.

"Wait, where are you going? You're--you're supposed to.. you're.."

"Infirmary, where else? Supposed to what, Harry?"

"You're supposed to.. Wait, tell me what happened last night," Harry insisted.

There he was, Harry Potter, subtly asking Ginny Weasley to stay for a little while and talk, just as there she was, indirectly running away from him. Ginny began to wonder how it would feel like if she were in her first year, and Harry would do these little hand tricks to her. _I had to be_, she thought, _the happiest Gryffindor of the night. _But now, it was nothing more than an accidental interaction and no less than a touch. Ginny pulled her hand away from Harry's grip.

"I already told you this morning, how many times will I have to tell you?" she answered.

"Was that everything? Are you sure he didn't.. hit you or something?"

"No, silly. That's all." Ginny tucked her hair, she was now turning pink and didn't know why. "Can I go?"

"One more thing." Harry held up a finger. "Hope you haven't forgotten about it. You're supposed to give me an answer today." 

But she had. Ginny roofed her mouth as she grunted, and tried to look for an escape route. Her eyes swept the room persistently, and only stopped when she spotted the blonde. That blonde.

Draco Malfoy - sitting across the room observing her. Ginny trembled at the prospect of being watched. She felt embarrassed for the first time -- after what happened last night. Both threw unspoken words, and Malfoy only locked himself up when Crabbe accidentally whacked him on the stomach. He looked away.

"Ginny..?" Harry's voice jolted her back to reality. 

"I'm sorry? I haven't thought of it." 

"Alright," Harry reacted quickly, and gave reason no chance at all. "It's alright. Go ahead and take a rest, visit you later if we can."

Ginny nodded with a gratified smile, and marched out of the room. As she approached the door a cold, ordering voice vividly rang out despite the varied Hall noise. 

"Where are you going?" asked the voice sternly. Ginny halted, assuming the voice called out to her. 

"Somewhere.. don't follow." But then another voice came, as a reply to the call.

Ginny disregarded these and paced, but before she could round the nearest corner, someone called to her. And this time, she was right it was to her.

"Weasley."

* * *

"You." Ginny halted, back facing the voice's owner. "Following me again?"

"I'm not following you," it said in disgust. 

"If that's not following, then what are you bloody doing?" Ginny took a few huge steps.

"You don't want to know why, stop." Draco tried to catch up with the speeding girl, oblivious why he was doing so. "Would you just.. stop!" he shouted.

Ginny stopped, clenched her fists, and settled in her head that _this night he's gonna see what it means to be around six brothers for the first eleven years of my life_. But, "what do you want?" was everything she said.

"Nothing you could ever offer," said Draco, smirking. 

Turning around, Ginny caught Draco's eyes, then again, looked away. "May I help you? No, come to think of it, nothing could help you."

Silence.

Draco let out a long sigh. Ginny eyed him cautiously as he was slowly walking towards her. Boots making the softest sound. Yet she was well aware she wasn't making any movement when the casual thing to do was to run or fall off the nearest window before anything like last night would happen again. 

"What happened to you last night?"

"Nothing. What do you care? It's not like you.." 

"Tell me," he cut in. 

Silence floated once again.

Many have walked in the Infirmary during breaks to wish Ginny well, and partly to hear about _last night_, but it turned out that they only wanted to butt in for a good gossip. But now, beyond an unknown reason, she was more than glad to tell him what she thought had happened.

Yet to think that she could entrust anything to a Slytherin was foolish. Ginny shrugged, torn between doing the casual thing that was running away, or crafting any sane reason just to shut the lead head that was Malfoy.

Footsteps now growing louder as he moved closer, and heavier, and heavier. She listened. A hand seized her arm as if to stop her from doing a somewhat unspeakable action.

"Tell me," he pleaded. At least that's what Ginny thought. _Then he's making fun of me, well, what's new?_

"I don't know," replied Ginny awkwardly, hoping it would end the bloody hopeless chat.

Malfoy looked down to the boorishly positioned brickwork. Question answered.

"Satisfied?" Ginny strolled. 

"Nearly. You can't _not_ know anything about it. What, are you finally experiencing symptoms of that what-do-you-call disease where you die in the end?" 

"Of course not," Ginny answered mockingly. "In two days or so I'll know. I'll be okay, Madame Pomfrey promised me that." 

"She's not always right, is she? Then what if she finds out you've got a terrible, contagious disease?" Malfoy nearly smirked at the thought of the Weasel ailing in pain. 

"Congratulations to you, then," said Ginny, as she was not interested in continuing a conversation where her own death was the matter of discussion. A trace of pleasure appeared on Malfoy's face, and Ginny hated it. "Oh shut up. I just fainted, lead head," Ginny followed up, uttering the last two words rather softly. "It's not like I'm decaying on the spot."

"The heck did you say? Lead head?" If he heard right, Weasley did say lead-head. And if he was also right, no one has ever called him that. 

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm going. Bye and nice talking." 

"You _said_ lead-head."

"I know, I'm not too old to forget."

"And not too old to pay." 

__

I shouldn't have, I shouldn't have! Ginny mentally smacked herself down.

"And you're forgetting you still _owe_ me that much to be walking around and calling me lead-head, that's what you think I am, right?"

"And I owe you what?" 

"Your life, mainly," Draco swiped his firm blonde hair, which to Ginny, was badly grown. "Back up there last night." 

"I don't remember asking for your help, thank you."

"You obviously don't realize how stubborn you are." Which was likely saying you're an ungrateful rash bitch. But she was right, Draco's help was uncalled for. _Not yet_. "Don't go back to the tower if there's still some sense left in you, at least without me knowing."

"My tower, you mean?"

"_My._"

"What's in it for you if I went up or not?"

"Nothing. I mean, yeah, well go up at your own risk." 

"Is that a warning?"

"Might be," Draco said seemingly.

"Is it me, or have you just recently found out you'd pay to give a damn about anyone?"

"Both. But not the paying part." 

Ginny couldn't see the point in talking and replying to the shoddy guy following her who would probably go great pains just to piss her off. "Ugh, leave me alone."

"Don't you think you're a little _alone_, Weasley?" 

Ginny looked around: she was. Despite herself, Ginny turned about and faced him, to supposedly say she had Harry, but before she could utter a word, she began to feel a tremor pass her shoulders, to her hair, then down her trunk, all the way down to her feet. It was as if a tuft of invisible slinky substances slithered around her. I was just like last night, only she didn't confuse the thing as a Dementor. Realizing she had gone weak, Ginny bent to the wall and extended a hand for support. But it wasn't the wall that secured her from falling.

"Jeez, what's wrong with you?" Draco sped to her with a rate Ginny couldn't even imagine one could achieve. Or was Ginny imagining things?

She wasn't. Malfoy felt a wild drive in him, and before he knew it, he was holding Ginny, preventing her fall.

Things went blur. And now she was breathing hard against her supporter's chest. Did walls have chest? She wasn't seeing right. Her head drooped like that of a boozer and not minutes have passed when she lost it.

Malfoy had never been this panicked before, even more panicked than he was last night, yet even more panicked than he is whenever he catches sight of the Snitch. This time he didn't only feel panicked, he felt fear. At first reluctant, he finally forced himself to lift the girl, though where he was to take her, even he didn't know. 

* * *

"What am I even doing here, helping a Weasley?" disgusted, he almost spat right on the floor. "What the hell is wrong with me?" Draco grunted.

The quietness in his room was nothing compared to what the Infirmary Hall naturally possessed. Every particle in the passageway seems to have an invisible amplifier; Even Draco's scratching of forehead made a distinct sound.

"Isn't it wonderful how things change in a matter of minutes?" he wondered. "Draco, no, it's not wonderful. It's bloody annoying! It's like.. Damn it. Why am I talking to my bloody self?!" He cupped his forehead after another minute of recollection. Making up his mind, he got to his feet firmly. "That's it. I'm leaving and it's final."

He walked away from the chair Madame Pomfrey had provided him earlier after getting thrown out of the Infirmary. ("Wait there, Mr. Malfoy," ordered Madame Pomfrey as she closed the Hospital Doors tightly.)

Draco wasn't used to a thing like this. Not that he there wasn't anything or anyone to struggle with, he simply had his own way of dealing with himself. This thing he was experiencing was new. He'd been talking to himself from the moment the nurse had sent him out. And such an incident was alarming, since he would usually break a dozen things whether by wand or hand, but not really talk to himself.

He wasn't even a meter away from his chair, when he wheeled and returned, changed his mind again and decided to stay. He was beginning to think Madame Pomfrey had put an ass-towing charm on the chair--was it that, or did a part of him really want to stay?

"Will somebody scare my thoughts away?" he grumbled. "Where the hell are the ghosts when I need them?" He sat back on the chair and leaned on the wall. 

"Oh, wall," as if it was the first time he felt the stiffness of a stone wall. Then, turning to it, he ---

Crack.

He merely mouthed the words 'shit" and 'ow!', afraid that they would only cause more pain. What he felt was an aftermath of hitting an innocent wall. And why? He wished he knew. He'd broken vases, yes, but never his own hand. He covered his injured hand with his good one, and dug them deep into his cloak. "What the.. did I just hit the wall?"

"What did it do?" It was Crabbe. Malfoy didn't see him coming, not even heard his footsteps approaching. "The wall's blameless."

"Then go marry it," he replied. "What are you doing here?" he asked, rubbing his hurt hand.

"Why would I marry a wall? It won't kiss me back," Crabbe retorted.

"Good for it. What do you want?"

Crabbe stood there, trying to remember something. "Me? Nothing.. but Snape wants you in his office."

"I don't remember asking what he wanted, nut head. What does he want, anyway?"

"Dunno.. word, I think."

Draco clamped his eye lids. "Not again."

Crabbe looked around the hall, as if searching for something that might have been hiding. His eyes fell on the uncovered Infirmary door-screen, then went to peek through it. "Nice job there." There was a playful smile in his face. Unfortunately, what he meant by nice job was Ginny. "How did you pull it off again? And you never told us.."

"Pulled _what _off?" he asked without a glance.

"Her!" Crabbe still looked inside the dimly lit hospital.

"I didn't _pull_ anything _off_, Vince. She's not my work." Much to his displeasure, he was telling the truth.

"Yeah, to you. But everyone thinks you're tripping on her or something." 

"Even you?" Draco asked.

"Yeah, above all." 

"Really." This time, Draco stood, and was now equal to Vincent in height. "Take that back."

Crabbe's eyes widened in fear. There was nothing to be scared of a lanky boy like Draco, but what Crabbe always feared was Draco's shrewdness and his cunning way of responding to things. 

"I--I was kidding," Crabbe mumbled, "'course you didn't."

Malfoy smirked. "Good, I'm glad you know."

"But what about Snape?" he asked.

"Tell him I'm busy."

"R-right."

"Thank you. We're over," Malfoy said each word imperatively.

Crabbe looked around again in the same searching manner.

"What now?" Draco asked him annoyingly.

"Who's with you before I got here?" Vincent asked skeptically, and only shrugged when he got a negative answer. "I hope you.." he paused, "..weren't talking by yourself again."

"I wasn't," defended Draco, and then again, he tried to send Vincent away. When he told him to 'go back to your painful shell,' Vincent retorted that he didn't have any, but before he could finish his sentence off, he was cut in by Draco.

"Just go!" If Draco was good at something else, it would be that he stood Crabbe's thickness for 6 pathetic years.

Crabbe nodded and left. Malfoy made sure Crabbe was out of earshot, slumped in his chair, and muttered, "Talking to myself? No way." Draco pampered his injured hand. Visions of Ginny falling and losing consciousness flashed in his mind. What the hell was Ginny doing _inside _it? He curved in his chair, and squeezed his ailing hand evenly. 

"Stomach ache, Malfoy?" said a voice.

__

Why do you keep on walking in on me?

"Get lost in space, Crabbe," for once, Malfoy thought it was him.

"Oh, please, not Crabbe. I wouldn't choose his body even if it's the last thing in the world I could ever occupy." 

Malfoy looked up and saw three familiar but never liked faces. Malfoy meant to say _I was waiting for you_ but hesitated after seeing the look on their faces.

"Go to your sister, Ron," said the first voice.

Ron nodded and pulled a girl with him. They went inside.

Now, Malfoy and the other were left in the barren hallways. None knew what to say, though knew what to do.

And Draco somehow expected this. 

A fist came driving at him, so quick Draco hadn't the chance to avoid it. 

"Shit, Potter! That was my nose!" his voice chimed, echoed in the empty hallways.

"That was for Ginny." Harry clutched Draco's cloak with a hand, the other ready for another blow, but wavered. It was out of Harry's character to hurt others for a personal reason. And Ginny wasn't personal. _Not yet_, he thought. Dumbledore will be disappointed, surely. Harry let Draco go, and pushed him instead. 

Draco didn't hit him back, he couldn't while he had a bleeding nose and injured hand. He sheltered his injury. "I'm bleeding!"

"And deserving it."

At that moment, Ron and Hermione had gone out of the Infirmary to check what has happened. Both of them stood shocked looking at Malfoy. They shot Harry a strange look, asking him if it was his fault.

Ron's eyes enlarged with joy. "You did it?" he exclaimed with rather disbelief. He couldn't believe Harry had finally done it to Malfoy. 

Harry turned and bent his head on the wall, obviously regretting what he has done. "I missed, I aimed for his eye." 

Hermione rushed back inside and returned with Madame Pomfrey. 

"What.." asked the nurse. But seeing the bleeding Malfoy answered her simple question. She hurried to him and checked. Then, she looked at Harry, "Potter?" Even she couldn't believe what had taken place. "Potter, you attacked a student," she said, which sounded more like she was making a reality check than asking. 

Harry buried his face in his hands. 

"Why?" asked the nurse. 

"Bastard thinks I touched his girl.." Draco replied, substituting Harry.

Madame Pomfrey turned to Draco, "Watch the language, Mr. Malfoy."

"Harry, we're.. we're not sure it was his doing," Hermione said. "You shouldn't have done that."

"I'm sure," Harry said naturally. 

"Then prove it, ask _her_." 

Madame Pomfrey sent Harry, Ron and Hermione back to their houses as 10:00 o'clock marked off, went inside the Infirmary with Malfoy to nurse his bleeding nose, and led him to a bed very far from Ginny. Draco looked at the girl resting at the opposite end of the room.

"Is she going to be alright?" Draco asked the nurse who was now wiping blotches of blood off his face. The nurse didn't seem to mind him. "Well, you need not answer. I certainly don't care if she wakes up or not. She'll be missed."

"Ask yourself that, Mr. Malfoy."

"How the hell should I know?" he stopped, and repeated nicely. "I mean, how-should-I-know?"

"Because you were her last companion. And, _maybe_, the only witness." When Draco's face turned sour with disapproval, Madame Pomfrey defended her first statement, "No, Mr. Malfoy, I am not accusing you of anything. But you simply are the closest we have to a suspect."

She sealed the ointment and put it back on the tray she later on collected and put back to its storage.

"This is ridiculous," the boy said, looking unwittingly at Ginny. "I saved her twice and I'm paying for it."

Grimly, the nurse stopped putting the flasks back to their places and threw Malfoy a suspicious look. "Paying? You're mighty rich, it shouldn't be a heap to worry. And did I hear you say '_saved_'?"

Her stare made him feel uneasy. "Isn't she?" 

"Boy, I don't think she's saved yet," Pomfrey explained as she joined Malfoy. "Professor Flitwick doesn't think so, likewise."

Malfoy's eyes searched for answers. "But she said you'll find out in two days.. and you'll cure it.."

Madame Pomfrey remained silent for a while, and gave him a cold look. "I can't."

"But you're the nurse," he stomped up, "you're supposed to _know_. But that's just it you lied to her."

"Hush, Mr. Malfoy!" she ordered him to sit down. "I know what I am supposed to do. And I've done what I could. But her case is.. out of my reach."

Draco sat back as he regained calmness. "What's the Charms teacher got to do with it?"

"He asked me earlier about Ms. Weasley's status," she explained, "Ginny's far from ill, and that's good news. I checked her up--her body temperature is normal, blood pressure is just as well. I've interrogated her brother, and found out she has never had any serious disease for the past 6 years."

"Then she's alright," Draco proudly protested.

"However," she added, "Professor Flitwick acknowledged he had experienced dealing with cases such as Ginny's. Ms. Weasley might appear perfectly healthy, but she isn't."

"Will you just come straight to the point?" 

"I am saying, she's been charmed," Madame Pomfrey said plainly. 

Draco almost laughed, "Charmed? But who would put a curse on her?" After receiving a steady look from the nurse, Draco shook his head, "No.. no. I'm not even good at charms. Don't look at me like that!"

"Who else but an enemy?" The nurse suspended her sweating hands in mid-air. "Someone who grudges her." 

"Jeez, my family does hate hers.." he said frankly. "But if we wanted her hurt we'd rather have her dead.." 

"Joking," Malfoy added. It simply wasn't the right time for a joke. Jokes are half-meant most of the time.

"Professor Flitwick says it's an old form of Magic," Pomfrey continued, though trying to remember Flitwick's statements word per word, "'Wizards used to curse their enemies with this charm. But-- later on it was unauthorized on account of the increasing death reports it began to price. The ministry took the lawbreakers to their custody, and even persecuted those who used the charm adversely.'"

"Woh.." Malfoy moaned doubtingly. "It kills? But how?"

"'All it takes is a look in the eye. The victim will first enervate, and if the process is repeated constantly, it could lead to his.." Pomfrey paused. "Or her death."

"Oh, then Flitwick must have had it."

"I don't think so." Pomfrey smiled as she shook her head. 

"Well, I don't have it, do I?" Draco anticipated.

"You won't know you have something unless you find a use for it. But I wish and hope you don't."

"NO," he pressed, "I don't have it."

Pomfrey nodded. "Well then, if you say so."

"But.. there must be a medical explanation.." 

"There isn't any," Pomfrey cut him immediately.

"And a cure?" Draco asked hopefully.

"Mr. Malfoy.." the nurse put a trusting hand on his shoulder. "Maybe you should ask the Charms teacher personally." She walked to the storage she had left open, and smiled. "And by the way your nose will be alright by daybreak. You may go back to your room."

Draco returned the old woman's smile and turned to Ginny saying, "I think I'll stay. I'm a bit.. _dizzy_."

Pomfrey couldn't refuse a student's wish to stay in her clinic just because she didn't trust him. "Alright. I trust that." She left, and closed the doors quietly. 

After a brief look at Ginny, Draco lay with his back facing her, and, closing his eyes, felt a surge to hit the wall again.

.TBC.


	4. Excuse Me While I Panic

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

****

What Do You See? 

Chapter 4 : Excuse Me While I Panic :

__

" In a panic I let out a scream // Everyone just kept passing me by // Holes in our web make life so strange // 

Forget what you must to stay in control / It's like owning a piece of the rock while it rolls / 

We're furiously fighting to keep a firm hold / I'm hearing chimes of chaos /

Ego vs. Soul / Oh my Soul "

-- "Panic_", Shawn Johnson_

It must be 3 in the morning. 

A cold, playful breeze had sneaked in the Infirmary through an open window. The prankish air swung the window back and forth, causing piercing noises to Draco's ears. His senses were vigilant in his sleep. He was uncomfortable of the whole situation, and only planned to remain in the Clinic for a while to wait for _her_ to stir, but then, _she_ didn't show any sign of movement. Without knowing it, he had fallen into a nap, a very cozy nap at that, and had forgotten all else. For a moment he had overlooked the rumors that might come dangling his way had some nosy student passed by the clinic during this hour in the morning, and see that he was alone with the Weasley girl. Well, he does have an injured nose, doesn't he? But well, there was always Madame Pomfrey. 

The creaking window. It sounded exactly like a chalk scratching against a blackboard: one of Snape's favorite noise breakers. Sensitive Malfoy was awakened by the cacophony. Abruptly, he stood up, searched for the source and found it in the dark. He closed the window with a few unnecessary movements and absently brushed his injured nose as he went back to his covers. Then followed a series of curses fluently recited.

"You okay there?" came a voice from the far end of the room, not really affecting, but leering.

"Who's there?" alarmed, he questioned back.

"Who else's here..stu--?" Ginny asked back, omitting what had been the last word -- _stupid_.

Draco then remembered, and mouthed, "Weasley." 

Questions that might answer Ginny's state streamed in Draco's head. He thought of how convenient it could have been if he asked those questions immediately, so he could contentedly and blamelessly leave the clinic. But now that she was up, now ready to listen, he found himself perplexed and speechless, though why he didn't know. Questions from _How've you been_ to w_hat did you that for?_ gushed in his thoughts but not out his mouth. And finally, making up his mind, said: 

"So.." "I.." Draco and Ginny said simultaneously. There was a sudden silence in the room, as if an invisible _Keep Quiet_ notice had passed between them. 

Ginny bit her lip. 

Draco, now feeling awkward, shrugged. "Right. Go first."

"I.. I wanted to close the window but I doubt I could stand."

__

Should I say, 'How thoughtful'?That was definitely not the first statement Draco expected from someone he saved, better yet, kept company, and even better yet, without any reward. 

"Oh," he said clumsily, dejected of the girl's lack of appreciation. "_Oh._"

Ginny reached for her bedside lamp and turned it up. Draco moved to his side to do the same, but as his lamp's fire grew brighter, Ginny threw out a warning, "Don't!" 

Draco followed promptly, though deeply, he felt like whining. "What.."

"Don't show me yourself."

"Who are you to tell me what to... fine." 

And again, the invisible _Silence _sloganpaved the distance between them.

Deeply, Ginny sighed at the conclusion she had come up with. "I.. I think I've figured it out."

"Figured what out?" Draco snapped in confusion. 

If this was Draco's dream, Ginny was his only apparent vision. Everything else that surrounded her was hazy, everything around her, Draco supposed, had defied the rules of time and slowed. The window he previously closed made its song of opening and closing again, passively. But he was jiggled back to reality as she opened her mouth.

"..why I falter when you're around," Ginny mouthed the words softly, carefully. Draco didn't catch the first part. The world, the one that had wavered for a while, went on as if nothing happened. The world in slow motion set on its course again.

"Really. Well I'm around, don't you think you should start fainting again?"

Ginny repositioned in her bed, obviously losing her patience. "You don't understand. It's like this," and with a deep breath, she continued, "I think.."

"You think?" Draco stunned Ginny's soft and construing voice. "I know what. You're going to tell everyone what you think, and it will put me in the hot seat. Am I right, Ginny?"

She couldn't just let him take over her without any explanation. Surely he was thinking this as a plot against him, but he wasn't seeing things clearly. "Jeez, listen first before you fire away!" She thought of every suitable word to put the situation in perspective, yet careful not to sound assuming for if she does, Malfoy would more or less laugh at her. And she never wanted to sound ridiculous. Not in front of anyone. Not in front of _him_. 

"I think when I look at your eyes, I feel weak," Ginny stopped there, unaware what to say next. It better be something less stupid than what she just said. "That's.. That's all I know. It's why I don't want you to light up, I don't want to see you. No, I want to. But.. it sucks to feel weak like that when you're the only one around. You get me? You--you caught me twice and I found I didn't like it like that. Not by anyone-especially not by you."

Draco was never eager to listen to a ranting girl, as he was known to have a 'very high opinion on women'. He thought they were morons. But he found this very interesting. He lowered his head now, torn between laughing and believing. Yet as he listened to Ginny ongoing with her words, both bitter and sweet, the thought of laughing was suddenly diminished. Even the thought of believing was overwhelmed by awe. Every word sounded true, as every word proved Ginny's boldness. He found himself slowly admiring the fearlessness in Ginny as she freely shared her insights. He knew that if he interrupted, she wouldn't mind him and would still go on. 

If there was something else Draco didn't have, it was this. He never considered flying over great heights defiant, for flying was his game and passion. The darkness in the dungeons, being alone in his own room down under, never startled him -- until now. How could someone like her be so open and brave despite being alone in this dark, cold place? Or was the darkness eating her, daring her to speak out? _And I_, _I've been alone as well. Funny that I endured it, more funny how I did._ He realized that he had always been in the same dark space. But it had never come to him that he was only human, that in any moment, in any place, his cup would overflow, and would incidentally release the hot and bitter coffee he had kept from spilling for so long. Not that he had a difficulty in talking truths, he was simply afraid to stand vulnerable in the middle of nowhere - not in front of anyone, not in front of _her_.

"I--I was having the best night in my tower," Ginny was eating her words, but Draco couldn't care less. "And then you came and blew it into pieces. And I heard.." she paused, and remembered, "I heard Madame Pomfrey talking to you last night. Did you really charm.."

"You? Go to hell, please," Draco answered coldly. "Look lady, I'm trying to ask nicely here. I don't even know if I did it. Or how I did. For Chrissake, don't put this all on me!"

"Of course, you didn't know it. You were too busy doing it you didn't realize you were already at it!" 

"W-wha-t? I didn't quite get that."

Draco, making up his rotten mind, stood up and walked to her. The best way to understand someone is by looking through the eyes, and you'll clearly see what the mind is trying to say. 

Ginny, seeing his figure nearing, backed in her bed. She leaned on the steel headboard. "I have my wand, don't think I'm unarmed." 

"I'm not going to hurt you." Draco took a few uncertain steps. 

"Spent the last five minutes forcing myself to believe that." 

Draco stopped, and wheeled back to his bed. "Believe me. Whatever it is that I… have… I didn't use it against you. If I'd hurt you I'd at least warn you." 

"_You have. You just didn't know it,_" Ginny had wanted to say. Instead, what came out was, "Forget it. It's not like you'd care if I kept on fainting all over the castle. What do you know? Maybe you'll wake up one day and I won't. Go to sleep."

"That's original, but I don't to hear that again, Weasley," Draco said.

"Why not?"

"It.." _a more suitable term, please?_ Draco mentally implored, and continued,"s_cares_ me."

Ginny's mouth was thrown open, as if to laugh, but she resolved, "Scaring you? Oh, now I know what scares the great Malfoy."

Then, she broke into a laugh. Draco was confused, or antagonized, or both. 

"The hell's so funny?" asked Draco. "Sharing the infirmary with a dead body _is what_ scares me. But it doesn't necessarily mean _your_ body."

She only laughed harder.

"Stop or I'm opening my light," he threatened as he seized the oil lamp switch.

Deterred by his threat, Ginny stopped her little party at his command. She lay back in her bed and pretended asleep. She suspended her arm at the end of the bed, and made herself look like a listless victim of a horrible nightmare. 

The sight of her lying like that only _scared_ Draco more. "Weasley?"

No answer.

"Quit playing." Draco stood up and walked to her, now that the only person who could stop him seemed unconscious again. He looked quite frightened, really. "Shit, don't do this."

When he reached Ginny's bed foot, Ginny suddenly grabbed her pillow and tossed it to him. 

"Gotcha!" 

But Draco caught the pillow. "Did you?" 

He threw it back to her. Ginny shoved it aside, causing her wand and the glass of water to fall out of the side table. Her wand rolled under the next bed, and the glass fell with a clattering sound as it broke into fragments.

After a few seconds, heads turned to the source, footsteps lightly emerged behind the door.

"Pomfrey," Ginny guessed.

Draco quickly ran back to his bed and lay. Flat. Ginny did the same, although now, she didn't have her pillow. W_hat kind of excuse would explain the broken glass and my missing pillow, _(and wand, although this has not occurred to her yet), Ginny thought.

The doors opened, and to their delight, closed again after a while. 

"That was close," Ginny said.

"Very." Draco sat back up. "You. You threw a pillow at me and you're going to pay."

"And you lost me my wand. You're going to pay as well," Ginny wasn't sure if demanding something from Draco Malfoy was the smartest act of the year, but it was his fault, and Ginny had said it anyway.

"It's just there.. _somewhere_." He flattened his pillow and lay. "I'll look for it tomorrow."

"Why not now?"

"I'm sleepy. Night." _True enough, Draco. You're not really sleepy, you're giving excuses again._

"Night," Ginny replied in the same manner. Not a minute had passed when… "Malfoy?"

"What?" asked Draco, monotonously.

"I didn't know you knew my name."

__

Of course, who wouldn't? Tom Riddle, the Chamber of Secrets, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, they're all in a great web. Yeah, I did. 

"I didn't." It was times like this when Draco wished his conscience had a mouth, so he could let it do the talking. 

"But you called me by name earlier." 

"Did I? I must be..." Draco paused, "I must be good in name-guessing." 

"And lying," Ginny dubiously added.

Draco felt the need for an explanation, "I... I guess you'd never know you knew something, unless you actually find a use for it."

"Something like my name?"

"Y-Yes, possibly," Draco said dryly. He felt cornered, and inwardly protested, '_where are thou, wit, when I need thou!?'_

"Oh, good then. Because I like it that way."

Draco wasn't keeping up, he had just gotten out of his thoughts. "Pardon, which way?" 

"The way you called me Ginny."

"Oh. I liked it too." To this, Draco mentally slapped himself with a huge, invisible tuna. _Can I fucking sue my mouth?_ He kept on slipping with his words, sliding now and then with them.

"Liked what? My name?"

"No, crazy." Good for him he found an immediate excuse, "the way you called me Dr--by my first name."

"Oh. Right. Goodnight then, Draco."

"Night, Ginny."

"Wait."

"_What now?_"

"You think I'll..." Now Ginny thought again, if it was the smartest thing to do. _Come on_, she thought, _I'd probably be the first in line he'd want dead_. But Ginny realized she had meant to ask him that question. She found she was serious, "I'll die?" 

Draco wanted to joke around it, but realized the seriousness in Ginny's voice. He sat up on his bed and examined Ginny.

"Far from it."

"How do you know?"

How? _Because I just.. know. But I guess I'm not too smart to know anyway._ Draco rifled through his mind for a reason, found none. "Because I just know it." 

And his voice was the last thing that echoed in the Infirmary. 

A cold, playful breeze had sneaked in the Infirmary through an open window. The prankish air swung the window back and forth, causing piercing noises to Draco's mindful ears. His senses were vigilant in his sleep. Now that he was comfortable of the whole situation, he planned to remain in the Clinic until sunrise to wait for _her_ to stir. She hadn't shifted in her bed, or made any movement. Without knowing it, he had fallen into a nap, a very cozy nap at that, and had forgotten all else. For a moment he had overlooked the rumors that might come dangling his way had some nosy student passed by the clinic during this hour in the morning, and see that he was alone with the Weasley girl. Well, he does have an injured nose, doesn't he? But well, there was always Madame Pomfrey. But Draco couldn't care less.

***

Ginny woke up the next morning (LATER that morning, rather) only to find out she was alone. Malfoy's bed had been made. She turned to the table beside her, and found her wand on top of a folded note. She quickly opened it.

__

Ginny. 

Hope I spelled you name right. Anyway. I got your wand back, see? So I've paid. However, you and that pillow still owe me compensation. Pay me later.

10 O'clock. See you there_._

M, D. ++ 

(P.S. Please Weasley, don't blush like that, it's scary.)

"That cow actually thinks I'm blushing?" denying the obvious fact that she was turning red. Ginny folded the parchment, and hid it safely under her pillow. She knew that anytime, Ron, Harry, and Hermione would be bulging in with her breakfast and news about the happenings in Hogwarts. Not that she missed a lot for 2 days, but it's entirely different being in the Infirmary while everyone else is going on with his or her lives. 

"No, Professor, there's no way I'm telling her," a voice, Ginny recognized as Hermione's, slightly rose behind the doors. 

"No, Professor, don't look at me like that," came another one.

"But you're her brother!"

"The more reason you shouldn't make him do it. I'll do it, Professor."

"Alright then, Potter."

So it was Professor Flitwick, her Charms teacher. Ginny knew who it was even before he pushed the door open with his back, giving way to Harry, Ron and Hermione. Hermione had a tray stuffed with oranges, an apple, and a deep bowl. Flitwick, however, was clutching a thick, blue book under his arm. Ginny reared to her pillow and pushed the letter under it farther from view. She'd only wondered then how a pillow had gotten there, when she could clearly remember sleeping only with her hands to support her head.

"Gin!" Ron hurried to her. "How are you? You know you fainted?" but Ron sounded a bit happy. 

"I sort of guessed that," Ginny said as she let herself be squeezed by Ron. 

"Ginny," Harry called in a care-worn manner, "we were all worried.. it's the 2nd time around and.."

"Here's your breakfast," Hermione said, smiling as she put the bowl of pumpkin soup on the bedside table, where Draco's letter lay only moments ago.

"Thanks, 'Mione. Harry?" she implored him to continue.

"And we haven't got a clue why," answered Ron, gaining everyone's attention. 

"Wasn't asking you, Ron. Wha--what's with the look?" asked Ginny, as her visitors' faces turned pale.

No one answered until Ginny posed and folded her arms in front of her stomach.

"Actually, Gin.." Harry mumbled.

"Actually what, Harry?" insisted Ginny. "What's up? I heard you back there. Sorry for pressing, but there's something you've got to tell me and I believe I have the right to know."

All of them, except Ginny, exchanged cold looks. Even Professor Flitwick was among the guilty.

Professor Flitwick gestured Harry to start, but Harry just won't do it. 

"We.. I..." Professor Flitwick rambled, but after receiving an accommodating look from Hermione, he found the words he had been meaning to say, "My nephew, he was mean, I say. He would make rude remarks at people back in the county... and he did this for a long time."

Ginny wasn't sure where this was going, but she listened patiently.

"Until one day, Edmund Barks, an old, secluded, weird—dark—wizard, went out of his way to simply confront him, but just when the man was approaching my nephew.. my neph.."

"His nephew fainted. And it kept on happening everytime Barks was near him. No, not near him, when Barks would look him in the eyes. Until that day came.. Barks hadn't even said a spell or word, Willy, Professor Flitwick's nephew, turned into a _wasp,_" Hermione finished Professor Flitwick's story for him.

Ron was covering his ears. Harry was head-down.

"You're saying, I'm turning into a wasp? After all this?" Ginny found the whole idea inane.

Hermione didn't seem to listen. "Many thought Barks transfigured—or whatever—Willy into a wasp, but they're all wrong. A study by the Ministry proved them so. Barks hadn't meant to turn him into a wasp. A representative from the Ministry even said Willy was lucky. He could have... died."

"What are you trying to say?" Ginny interrupted.

"Hold it. Notes tell me that _it_ was a _charm_, no, partly a charm and partly a product of an intense emotion such as hatred."

Ginny's beam faded, replaced with a list of questions. "What can stop this, then?"

Hermione didn't answer, and instead, grabbed Professor Flitwick's book and strode out of the Infirmary. There were parchments sticking out between the pages, but Ginny didn't bother looking now. 

"Now we do want to catch breakfast," said Flitwick to Ron and Harry. "Off to the Hall. I'll be seeing you later, Ms. Weasley, if time allows it. I think Madame Pomfrey did suggest you remain here, didn't she?"

Ginny only nodded, she didn't know what Pomfrey wanted for her. Flitwick left.

"So," Ginny turned to the remaining people in the room, and sighed. "You'll be late."

Ron threw Ginny a weak smile, then looked at his feet, a gesture practiced by Ron when he knew he couldn't be of any help, and left. 

Now Harry was left with Ginny. She looked at him, oblivious what to say. If this had happened some other time in some other dimension, Ginny would've found this thrilling. 

"Don't look at me like that." 

"Sorry," replied Gin.

"Makes me feel.."

"Uncomfortable?"

"Y-yes." 

"I feel just the same."

Harry sat on her bed. Ginny was still. Her hair was swept by a sudden wind, but to this she paid little attention. He sat there for a few good seconds.

"Can I.." said Harry more to himself than to the girl. 

When Ginny felt a warm hand touch hers, she pulled back. "_No_," she said, plumbly. She collected her hair to one side, and clamped it with the same hand. 

Harry displayed an _alright,-maybe-some-other-time,-anyhoo,-let's-change-the-topic,-shall-we? _manner, and asked,"Is it me, or has Malfoy left a lot of spirit in this room?" He appeared to be questioning the ceiling. 

Ginny didn't know how to answer to that.

"You--"

"No. I wasn't.. I wasn't sneaking, if that's what you're thinking. I woke up early, worrying about you. So I went here and well, bothered to see Malfoy near—Malfoy in the same room."

"It was his nose.. I think it..." 

"Ah, that. So you know what happened to it? I don't think he'd have to spend the night here for a blasted, bleeding nose, and still have the insides to do story-telling..."

"Look, if you think I asked him to stay.."

"Of course not, you were unconscious."

"I was gonna say that."

"Did he hurt you? Oh, no, I don't think he did, with the way you look.."

"I'm feeling fine," snapped Ginny.

"Right you are. Guess I'll have to forgive and thank him instead." Harry smiled forcefully, and stood up to leave. "Later."

"Forgive him? Thank him? For hell what?" 

Harry continued to walk away from the stupefied looking Ginny. "You should thank him, too," he said behind his shoulder. "He put that pillow under you."

.TBC.

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